by Mylo Carbia
David was shivering on all fours, ass to the air, unsure of what was next. The smell of his wounds continued to fill the van: cum, shit, rust, and blood, all wafting together in one small confined space. A smell so unique and horrific, one would remember it for a thousand lifetimes.
Ava tossed her silky, long blonde hair aside and continued with her speech. “What was your girlfriend’s name again? Was it Kayla? Or Kendall?”
David shook his head at her violently.
“Kylie. That’s right. Kylie Joy Watson.”
“NOOOHH…” he murmured under the duct tape.
“Such sad news. Jumping from the Hornsey Lane Bridge like that. And she was what, only twenty-three years old?”
David broke down to pieces.
Ava moved in close to him. “My good friend tells me she was very distraught to hear how much you liked fucking six-year-old girls. Especially when he showed her all the kiddie porn pictures we put on your computer.”
David became lifeless.
“Oh, don’t give up so soon, David!” She slapped him on the back. “I have one more special treat for you. A blow job. Wouldn’t you like that? One more great cock sucking before you die?”
David was terrified.
“Flip him over.” The biker boys followed her orders. “Hold him tight.”
David’s entire body contorted in terror.
“Oh, look, a fear boner.” David’s average size, erect penis throbbed with adrenaline. Ava took off her shop goggles and pulled out a brand new filet knife from her raincoat pocket. She placed the edge of her knife to his scrotum and her tongue on his balls, licking them gently.
David shook like a prisoner about to be executed.
“Now stay still,” she whispered. She took his fully erect cock into her mouth, sucking hard on his dick…But the more Ava’s head bobbed up and down, the more his erection became softer and softer, dying down to almost nothing.
Ava lifted her head with surprise. “What’s the matter? I don’t turn you on anymore?”
David’s eyes filled with incomprehensible terror. His penis was now limp, trembling in her presence.
“Well let’s try this then.”
Ava held up his limp penis with one hand as she cut the base of it off from his balls. David screamed and thrashed out in pain, as the bikers struggled to hold him. She then raised the bloody mass of penis flesh and placed it in her mouth, mimicking a blowjob in the air.
“How about now? Does this do it for ya?” she mumbled, with his bloody, severed penis in her mouth.
David’s eyes closed slowly, for this was the last image burned into his memory before losing consciousness.
CHAPTER 26
Bad News Always Comes In Threes
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
1:41 P.M.
Wesley sat at his desk staring at the city skyline, thinking of ways to win back Michelle’s trust. Baby, we all went to a nightclub to blow off some steam (yes, that would explain the drinking) and, believe it or not, there were these two old ladies who started dancing with me, so as a joke, I unbuttoned my…
Lilly tiptoed in. “Wesley?”
“Whatever it is, I don’t want to know about it.”
Lilly did not move. Her labored breath was enough to get Wesley’s attention.
He turned around in his chair. “All right. What is it?”
“Your friend…the one that came in here this morning.”
“David Reilly? What about him.”
Lilly hesitated. “Well, it’s all over the police wire, Wes. I am so sorry.”
Wesley hunched over his desk. “What is all over the police wire?”
Lilly braced herself for his reaction.
“What, Lilly? Tell me!”
Lilly looked at the floor as she spoke. “David was murdered this morning. He was attacked in his rental car and bled to death.”
“Wait, are you sure it’s the same David Reilly? I was just with him a few hours ago.”
“I know.”
“Where did this happen?”
“The parking garage down the street.”
Wesley covered his head with his elbows. Lilly approached him, having no idea how to comfort someone who had just lost two friends in eight days. “Wesley, I—”
Wesley blurted into Lilly’s face. “What time? What time did they find him?”
“I, I, I don’t know. All I know is that they found a picture of a naked little girl pinned to his shirt. It was a very young girl…which is why first responders think it may have been some sort of hit relating to child molestation.”
Wesley melted in his chair.
“But they won’t know anything until the autopsy is finished. That’s all I know. I swear.”
Wesley jumped to his feet and paced around his office like a madman. “This is not happening, this is not happening…It’s just not happening…”
“I don’t know what to say, Wes. I am so sorry.”
“Something is going on here…something is going on…”
“Wesley, calm down. I can drive you home. Just take it easy.”
“No! There’s something going on!”
“Wesley please—”
“First Sebastian, now David. Then that bitch comes out of nowhere…” Wesley stopped in his tracks, looking straight ahead. “Oh, my God.”
Lilly was frightened. “I don’t understand.”
“What was the name of the place where they found Sebastian?”
Lilly thought hard. “Something like…”
“It was a sex club, right?”
“Yes, it was called something like The Mardi Gras?”
“Was it Le Masquerade?”
“Yes, that’s it!”
Wesley’s stomach fell to the floor. He became dizzy, almost falling over. Lilly grabbed his arm then swiped his keys off the desk.
“That’s it. I’m taking you home.”
***
With a belly now ready to burst, Michelle escorted Lilly outside of her home. Her oversized white sweater with black sequin bats made her look like an overfilled Halloween trick or treat bag. “Thank you so much for driving the Escalade here too, Lilly. It saves me from having to go back downtown twice in one day.”
A yellow cab pulled into the driveway and beeped the horn.
“There’s my ride. Oh, and please tell Wesley I’ll take care of everything at work so he can take a few day off and sleep. Just please, make him sleep.”
Michelle smiled. “I’ll make sure he gets plenty of rest. Thanks again.”
Inside, Wesley lay curled up in his bed, staring blankly at the wall before him. Michelle entered the room, doing her best to cheer him up. “Hey, are you awake?”
Wesley did not respond.
“Well, I’ve been thinking, and you know all that stuff from this morning? Just forget about it. I’m sure your hair was just messed up from sleeping at the office, baby. I’m not mad anymore.”
Wesley held onto the pillow, not saying a word.
“Oh, and I finally opened that gift basket today. Can you believe there was a bottle of Opus and a can of Beluga in there? How silly of me to wait.”
Wesley ignored her, unable to think of Ava and her tricks any longer.
“Oh, and guess what else was in there?” Michelle grabbed something large and held it up in the air. “Check it out…Come on, look at me, Wes!”
Wesley reluctantly rolled over to see Michelle holding up a pink fifties diner style uniform—the one Ava wore the night of the rape. “Cute, right? It’s almost my size. I think I can fit into it by Halloween.”
Wesley rolled back over, not saying a single word.
***
Michelle was making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the kitchen while talking on the phone. “I didn’t realize David was such a close friend. I never met him.”
“He wasn’t really, in fact, I haven’t heard his name in years. All I recall is that they went through some tough classes together in college. Hi
story class I believe,” said Miriam on the other line.
Michelle served herself a glass of milk. “Oh…I wonder why Wesley’s so upset then? He’s practically catatonic.”
“He’s just exhausted from working too hard, sugar. Plus he’s stressed out about becoming a father any day now. All to be expected, nothing to worry about.”
“How soon can you get here?”
“I’m leaving Alpharetta right now but I need to stop and get some chicken soup.”
Michelle looked inside a cabinet. “Oh, no, you don’t need to stop. I’ve got four cans right here.”
“But you never purchase the brand he likes, sugar. I’ll stop by Kroger and get some.”
Michelle’s eyes darkened. “Okay, Miriam. Whatever you say.”
***
Miriam exited Kroger grocery store, walking quickly through the parking lot shaded by an overcast sky. She was juggling two brown paper bags against her lavender Chanel suit, never once taking a breath while rambling into her cell phone. “No, Mary, everything’s fine, Wesley just needs to stop working so hard and face reality, I already know this baby will require all of his attention because Miss Trailer Park America has no idea what she’s doing.” Miriam reached for her quilted purse. “Shoot! Darn it, I left my car keys at the cash register, I’ll call you back later.” Miriam leaned the bags of groceries against the rear tire of a white Mercedes S Class and headed back towards the store…
While Ava watched the entire scene from afar.
***
Miriam drove her white Mercedes down State Road 400, singing along to Carrie Underwood’s Jesus Take The Wheel on the radio. Her heavily made up light blue eyes matched her over-teased bleach blonde hair that was so big it graced the headliner.
Suddenly, she felt something wrong with the steering.
BOOM!!!
Miriam’s back tire blew out. She swerved left, almost hitting a pickup truck and then right nearly crashing into a Volvo. Eventually, she pulled over safely to the side of the road.
As she sat recovering from the ordeal, she heard the rumbling sound of Ava’s yellow Lambo pulling up right behind her. Miriam looked directly into the rear view mirror, recognizing the familiar sports car. “You never give up, Miss DeSantis, do you?”
Ava SPRUNG UP from the backseat. “No, I don’t.”
She threw a thick rope over Miriam’s head, pinning her neck to the headrest, choking her.
Miriam started flailing and fighting, grabbing at the rope as hard as she could…but Ava was stronger, tying the rope several times in knots at the back of the headrest.
Miriam kept gurgling and mumbling under The Home Depot clearance death brace. “You’ll…never get away…” she gargled. “I’ll tell…the police…everything.”
“Good point.” Ava stuck her fingers into Miriam’s mouth, yanked her tongue out and sliced it off with the filet knife. She rolled down the window and threw the pink tongue into the fast-moving traffic.
Miriam stretched her eyes to watch in horror as speeding cars rolled over it, flattening it to nothing. She continued to scream for help, now sounding like a deaf person trying to speak for the very first time.
“What was that again, Miriam? Tell the police, what?”
Miriam screamed as loudly as she could, yet no one on the road could hear her over the whizzing sound of fast-moving cars. Ironically, no one saw her either—all eyes were focused on the kick-ass yellow Lamborghini parked behind her instead.
“Give it a rest, Miriam. Enjoy a little peace before you burn in hell.”
Miriam continued screaming, flailing, mouthing words and making noises, with her neck strangling and blood gushing from her mouth.
Okay, I’ll hurry this up. Ava pulled out a large can of lighter fluid from the backseat. She dumped it all over Miriam’s big blonde hair, then over her stretched out face, padded shoulders and blood-covered chest. Miriam spit out the lighter fluid, screaming and carrying on incessantly. “AHHHHHH!”
Yes, even without a tongue, Miriam Scarborough would not shut the fuck up.
I should’ve brought a gun. Ava finished dumping the lighter fluid on Miriam then exited the backseat of the car.
Outside, Ava stood with her back against the traffic, wearing her iconic yellow raincoat. Miriam continued to squirm, spit and scream. Her neck merged with the imported camel leather headrest, while Ava calmly pulled out her cigarettes and lighter.
Miriam stopped screaming. Her eyes were as wide as Texas.
“I know, I know, smoking makes me age faster.” Ava lit the cigarette, took one long cinematic drag and blew out the smoke like a 1930s glamor queen. She then tossed the cigarette through the open window and into Miriam’s flammable lap.
“There. I quit.”
Miriam thrashed like a witch about to burn at the stake.
Ava calmly walked back to her car parked behind them. She opened the passenger door and dropped down into the seat.
“Feeling any better?” asked the bald, white biker in the driver’s seat.
“Almost.” Ava smiled with a sparkle of sarcasm in her eyes.
“Hey, any excuse to drive your car, boss.”
“Just don’t get used to it.”
The biker grinned as he REVVED the engine. He hit the gas, darted into the stream of rushing cars and sped off into the distance…
Just then, the interior of Miriam’s car burst into flames.
CHAPTER 27
Burn Baby Burn!
Thursday, October 12, 2006
6:35 A.M.
Miriam lay semi-unconscious in her private hospital room at the Grady Burn Center. She looked like a dead papier-mâché spider with her arms and legs held up in the air by cables, and her face and body wrapped head to toe in pristine white gauze. The sound of her breathing tube and heart monitor filled the sterile room as Wesley and Thomas sat at her bedside wearing white protective clothing to prevent further infection.
“When were you planning to tell me?” asked Wesley.
“I wanted to tell you as soon as the decision was made, but your mother insisted we wait until the baby arrived. She was afraid it would cause you too much stress.”
“Too much stress?”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
Thomas looked at Miriam with unconditional love in his eyes. “I just don’t know what kind of monster could do this, Wesley. I know we risk our lives every day working in the legal system. I just always thought something like this would happen to me, not her.”
“I know.” Wesley was uneasy in his chair. He could not bring himself to tell his father the truth about who he suspected was behind the attack.
“She’s the one who defends these monsters…and she’s good to them. She understands them…I just don’t know why anyone would turn on her like this.”
Wesley slouched back in his chair out of sheer exhaustion. “All we can do is pray she’ll wake up and be able to identify the attackers. That’s all we can do.”
Thomas looked at Miriam with tears in his eyes. “I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t make it, Wesley. As much as we fought, she’s been by my side for nearly forty years.” He stood up from his chair and held her hand. “It can’t end like this. Not like this.”
Wesley rose from his seat to comfort him. After a few moments, he launched a missile of unpleasant reality. “You do realize we have another serious problem on our hands, don’t you?”
“The press?”
“Yes.”
Thomas sighed. “How much time do I have?’
“My guess is that the story will hit by this afternoon.”
Thomas looked at the floor, defeated.
Wesley grabbed Thomas by his wide, stately shoulders. “Hey, I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make sure the world knows you’re innocent of this.” Thomas looked away, unconvinced. “This is what I do best, Dad. I will take care of you, I promise.”
Thomas drew a deep breath, ready for the worst to be over.
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“All right then, son. Just tell me what I need to do.”
CHAPTER 28
The Spin Of Innocence
Thursday, October 12, 2006
5:07 P.M.
The ScarCom Gang assembled around the conference room table watching the local news broadcast on a flat screen television hanging in the corner. All of the ladies were eagerly rearranging their pens and paper while Derek and Ed munched on sub sandwiches they’d had delivered minutes earlier.
Wesley, now freshly showered and shaved, glared at the men from the head of the table, mindful that everyone else had worked straight through lunch earlier in the day.
“Sorry,” said Ed with a piece of bread in his mouth. He quickly placed the sandwich back in the wrapper. Derek, oblivious to Wesley’s disapproval, continued stuffing his mouth until Ed nudged him under the table.
A young black female news anchor took center frame on the television. “Thanks, John. We wish the students of Georgia Tech a fast and speedy recovery. Another major tragedy today involving fire—”
“All right. Here we go.”
“Miriam Scarborough, local criminal defense attorney, and wife of United States District Court Judge Thomas J. Scarborough, remains in critical condition this evening as the result of a mysterious arson attack on State Road 400 yesterday afternoon. Although no witnesses have come forward, police are asking the public to share any information they may have—”
The channel flipped…
“With a stellar record on violent crime, The Honorable Thomas J. Scarborough submitted his resignation at two o’clock this afternoon after serving nearly four decades on the bench—”
The channel flipped…
“One member of Miriam Scarborough’s legal team has confirmed to Fox 5 that she had begun proceedings to divorce her husband of thirty-seven years, Judge Thomas J. Scarborough. When we asked our source if he thought it was a possibility Judge Scarborough might be involved in the attack, he said, and I quote, ‘Miriam is tough as nails. I can’t imagine anyone willing to take her on—”
The channel flipped…
“Thomas Scarborough, who’s inherited net worth is estimated at two hundred million dollars, is expected to be officially named as a suspect by the police later this week.”